My First Time

My first nudist experience came by accident when I was 32 years old. Prior to that, I had been raised in a very modest family where my mom forbid my father to have Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyway.) However, as beach blondes was always interested about it and on those infrequent occasions once I found myself home for several hours alone while my parents and younger brother and sisters were off on some family excursion, I tried out being without clothing for an hour here or an hour there. It felt comfortable, but I never dreamed I would ever attempt it in front of others. Still, skinny dipping was on my mental "Bucket List" to try sometime in my entire life when - or if - I ever could summon the nerve.
My wife, like my mother, was incredibly self-conscious about her body. What nudity there was in our home was limited to streaking from the restroom to the bedroom after a shower. On this particular day, the three of us happened to be exploring tide pools near Paradise Cove on the coastline of the Pacific just north of Los Angeles. My daughter was fascinated by the sea creatures trapped in the water at low tide, so we frequently visited distinct beaches along the 50 miles of county coastline where these pools could be investigated.
On this particular Sunday, we walked north from Paradise Cove, searching for the tide pool place a certain guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a particular corner to discover an extended seashore perhaps a half-mile long, that was covered with naked bodies. "Oh my God!" my wife cried out, "Its a nude beach. We must go - now!" At beach girl , my daughter squealed with delight and took off running down the beach and into the group. She had completely forgotten about any tide pools.
My wife rolled her eyes, and we walked with purpose toward where she'd shed her bathing suit and was now running even faster down the beach. "I always liked to try this," I confessed to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she gently but steadfastly responded. From her tone I knew I couldnt press the issue any farther.
As a family we never went back. Nevertheless, I happened to mention our casual discovery to a co worker several days afterwards. He nonchalantly acknowledged he and his wife went there all the time. I was more than surprised to discover this. Nudists lived among us! Who knew?
A year passed, and the following summer my wife and daughter left to see her sister in Washington State. I stayed behind for another week to finish an important project on the job. A couple of days later, the same co worker came into my office and closed the door. "Nows your chance," he said.
"What?"
"Remember last year you told me about the nude beach? Nows your time to really go without your wife finding out."
"No, I couldnt do that. I'd feel like I was cheating or something."

Well, I was nervous enough about the idea but going with people from work was absolutely out of the question. "Fine, but I would like to go by myself the very first time." But as the days passed, I started thinking that perhaps this might be my only opportunity to try it, and I began making strategies.
Simply I got there early and there was hardly anyone else there. I walked about midway down, spread my blanket, and sat there, alone, not desiring to be the sole one on the shore who wasnt wearing my swim suit. It took a few hours, but by the time the sun was overhead many others started to arrive. Some were families, some were couples, and some were obvious groups of friends who had done this many times before. They all dropped their suits like they'd done it a thousand times before (they likely had) with not a trace of self consciousness or shyness. They unpacked umbrellas and sand seats and Frisbees and footballs, same as on any seashore. Just these individuals had no tan lines.
I reach my first moment of truth once I knew it was time to either join in or leave. So I pulled off my suit and immediately rolled onto my stomach, thinking, "Oh wow, I really did it! I really did it!"
About a half hour after arrived the second moment of truth. That is when I realized I was burning in places that had not been subjected to the sun before, and I was going to need to turn over. But I had a better idea: I would head for the cool ocean water and conceal my privates there.
So I summoned all the courage I 'd, and stood up. I was particular everyones head would turn and I 'd be exposed for everyone to judge. I tried not to think about it as I took step after step toward the water. After several moments I realized they werent looking at me. "Why werent they looking at me? Im having a nervous breakdown here as well as the least they could do is look and acknowledge it!" After, I found that many others also go through these twin "moment of horror" their first time, just to look back and laugh at their conceit afterwards.
By now there were several hundred people in the water, splashing, diving, body surfing, doing what folks everywhere do in the water. Only without clothes. I joined in the fun and experienced my first surprising moment when the ocean wraps itself around ones body free of garments.
I didnt expect to adore the feeling so much. I thought this whole thing would be a few moments checking off an item on my Bucket List, and then I'd go home and live the rest of my entire life.
Nope, someday would have to come back. This was an astonishing, unexpected encounter, and I remained all afternoon. I felt no sexual tension, in fact I saw no sexuality at all. I found out later that the shore had it unofficial mayor as well as a team to volunteers who made sure nothing improper would occur there. So I discovered it really an extremely relaxing day. I even played a little beach volleyball. Modesty and shame would have been improper in this setting.


On Monday morning, first-thing, my coworker came into my office and asked, just, "Well?" I told him I truly enjoyed the experience and I thanked him for talking me into going. No, I wasnt going to go back another day with him and Gail, but perhaps someday. Then something occurred I didnt expect.
A few hours later, another coworker came into my office and shut the door. "My wife and I saw you Saturday," he said quietly with a big grin on his face.
Oh, no! I couldnt sink far enough into my seat! He then explained he along with his family go to that beach regularly and they were going to say hello but felt I might upset me (damn right it'd have!).
"Is this some huge conspiracy?" I inquired. "Do lots of the people I know go down to this kind of beach?"
"More than youll ever know," he replied. "We simply never talk about it."
There's a postscript to this story. We had a wonderful vacation except for one thing I'd forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife inquired, "What is that?"
"What?" I replied.
"It looks like your back is skinning. In fact your behind is paring!" There was a nervous pause while her mind put together the puzzle. "Dont tell me you went to that shore, did you?"
I sheepishly nodded. "I knew youd never go there and I liked to attempt it."
"Oh my God!
Unfortunately for beach blondes , a few of our guests admitted they went to that shore (or others like it) additionally!
Social nudity, as it turns out, is enormously popular, but nobody ever needs to talk about it.
blondes on a beach (now my ex) believes the world is crazy.)